by Ivy Fox
“Are you sure?” he growls, needing me to vocalize my consent.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He groans under his breath, and in one fast move, he stretches his arms to pull me closer until our chests collide. His lips find the crook of my neck, his palms lifting my ass up so that my legs are cradled around him once again. He then grabs one of my breasts, my head falling back of its own accord as he teases my nipple with his thumb and forefinger.
“I’ve fucking dreamed of when you’d let me play with these again.”
“Are you saying my boobs are your new playthings?” I ask with a nervous giggle, my fingers weaving into his wet locks.
“Fuck, if I could, I’d play with them constantly. Lick them. Tease them. Cum all over them, the works.”
My eyes go wide at his last remark, the idea of Saint cumming on my chest suddenly making me slick and wet. Unable to prevent it, my wet core starts grinding against his large shaft.
“I think you like the sound of that too, don’t you, hellcat?”
“I plead the fifth,” I reply, but again my blushing state leaves no confusion.
“You might be inexperienced, but I love how your mind works. Tell me, if I came on your tits, would that be a first for you, too?”
I nod because the humiliating image has me so turned on, it’s hard to talk.
“Fuck. You’ve always been a fucking wet dream, Princess. But now I’m starting to think you’re so much more than that.”
“And what’s that?”
“Fucking perfect,” he growls and grabs me by the nape of my neck so he can deliver another earthshattering kiss, making the world around us cease to exist.
He kisses me like he’s a man starved of air, and the only way he can get it is directly from my mouth. My nails sink into his shoulders as he grinds his fat cock against my swollen lips. He’s barely touched me, yet I’m already a volcano of desire, feeling empty without him.
“Santo, I need you,” I profess, needing him to fill me and love me the only way he knows how.
“Jesus, cariño. You drive me insane. I fucking want you so much. All the goddamn day. I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confesses while kissing me, his fingers digging into my waist, shifting me up and down on his cock.
The water splashes around us, teasing our skin, making me even more delirious with want. I pull back for air and kiss the hollow of his neck and every other patch of skin my lips and tongue can find. The chlorine mixed with his natural scent becomes an unexpected aphrodisiac I can’t get enough of.
“Fuck, I want to eat this pussy so fucking bad, baby. Promise you’ll let me,” he begs while continuously torturing me with his consistent stroking.
“Yes, I promise. Just… just… please, Santo,” I beg incoherently, needing him to end my misery and fill my emptiness.
“Say it, Princess. What do you need?”
“I need… I need….”
“Baby, say it. Say that you need me inside you.”
“Yes, I need you inside me.”
“That you can’t go another minute without me making love to you.”
“I can’t.”
“That I’m who you want. Who you’ll always want.”
I open my half-mast eyes, witnessing the small ounce of insecurity that lives and breathes inside of him still. It’s heartbreaking as well as the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.
“I want you, Santo. I always will.”
I’ve heard that what people say when making love shouldn’t be taken seriously. It’s the endorphins and lust that make them say things that they don’t truly mean. But I’m not sure that’s true. I believe every word I just told him. I believe that somehow Saint was meant to be mine and I, his. I should be troubled by that realization since my heart still mourns the loss of my first love. Yet, I’m not. I’m not because somehow, I’ve fallen irrefutably in love with him.
I love him.
There is no denying it any longer. Not when he looks at me like this, like I’m the most precious thing he has ever held in his arms. His dark eyes hold such love in them that it makes me want to cry for all the years we wasted being cruel to each other.
My palms cup his face as we continue to stare into each other’s eyes.
Black versus gold.
Complete opposites, yet perfectly matched.
“I’ll always want you. I know that now. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it. I trust you with my heart, Santo. Now please… trust me with yours.”
The words have barely passed my lips when his mouth crashes into mine. My whole body sings in elation with this one kiss as he positions his crown at my center. Inch by inch, he fills me until he’s buried to the hilt. I gasp into his mouth at the foreign sensation, my body quivering in his hold. He continues to lovingly kiss me as he slowly moves inside me, his hard cock hitting places I never knew existed.
“You’re perfect. So fucking perfect,” he praises, his thrusts languid and smooth.
My nails sink into his shoulders, needing something to hold on to as my heart and soul take flight. When Saint took my virginity, the event had been provoked by my need to feel something else aside from the pain I was being consumed by. This is different, though.
This isn’t us trying to escape our combined suffering. This is us giving in to our love without fear or hesitation and without any ghosts of the past.
“Look at me,” he begs, his possessive hand now cradling my throat.
I do as he says, even though it’s hard to keep my eyes open with how good each thrust feels inside me. He doesn’t say anything else, just limits himself to staring into my gaze as his speed quickens. His piercing black eyes are just as intoxicating to behold as the way he starts wildly pounding into me. I feel something start to break inside of me, bubbling with nervous energy, so I match his rapid rhythm, my pussy sinking onto his cock, hurriedly chasing that feeling within my grasp. Saint’s expression is one of utter adoration, making it too much for me to take.
“Saint,” I pant his name breathlessly, feeling the tidal wave of my impending orgasm coming straight at me.
His hold on my throat tightens, pouring gasoline on the fire that is about to burn me alive.
I can’t take it.
It’s too much.
All of it. It’s just too much.
The pivotal thing that pushes me over the edge is Saint’s thumb finding my throbbing clit, adding such sweet pressure to it that it has me combusting within seconds. I shout his name up to the heavens as the orgasm rips through me. I’m still riding the wave of ecstasy when Saint pulls out of me, jerking his cock under water, spurts of his release mixing in with the crystal blue water around us.
The old Saint would have cracked a joke at the sight, saying something witty about leaving his mark for Ash when he returns to lighten the intense mood we’re overwhelmed by.
This Saint—my Saint—doesn’t so much as open his mouth to say a word. Instead, he pulls me into his embrace and holds me so tightly, as if afraid I’ll vanish into thin air. I want to tell him that I’m real. That what I feel for him is real, but before I get the chance, Saint begins to shake in our embrace, a single tear falling onto my shoulder.
This is what Chad has done to us.
Left us so broken that when something so astounding happens, like the beautiful moment we just shared, we don’t believe we are worthy of it—worthy of being loved.
The tragic realization that even now, after we’ve given our bodies to one another, his absence is still felt has my own torn-up heart weeping for the missing link that used to tether us to each other.
How can we ever wish to be whole when he’s the person we both still love with all our hearts?
I’m not sure that will ever be a possibility for us.
So instead of giving Saint false promises of how one day Chad will be nothing but a faint memory for us, I return his embrace with the s
ame fierceness he’s showing me and offer him the one vow I feel in my bones to be true.
“I’ll take care of your heart, Santo. I promise. I’ll never hurt you.”
He pulls away just a fraction, fear and hope making the obsidian in his gaze sparkle in uncertainty.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Princess.”
“I’m not. We don’t lie to each other. Remember?” He swallows dryly, still unsure whether to trust me completely. “I chose you. And I’ll keep choosing you, come what may.”
“You say that now, but we don’t know what the future holds for either of us.”
My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach, seeing how Saint’s scars run even deeper than mine. And why wouldn’t they? Chad has openly shown his remorse for the way he deceived me, but he hasn’t done the same with Saint. No. Instead, he blames him for his own wrongdoings.
If it takes me a lifetime, I’ll mend the jagged, broken pieces of Saint’s heart until one day he wakes up and believes me. Believes that there is no future for me if he’s not in it.
We are worthy of love, Saint.
Just not his.
Chapter 16
Chad
How does that old saying go?
You don’t know what you have until it’s gone?
Such a benign expression to caution someone not to take for granted the people they care about most. I never thought I’d fall victim to such a sin, either, but here I am, plagued with the repercussions of such an offense.
I let the years pass me by, hoping Father Time would reveal an answer, show me who my heart truly belonged to, so I wouldn’t make a mistake when choosing one over the other.
How incredibly, foolishly naive I was.
There was never any choice.
I want them both, and now they want nothing to do with me.
And can I really blame them?
I fed into their lust and love, gave myself to them, but made sure to always keep them at arm’s length. How was I to know that by doing such a thing, they would find solace in each other’s arms? Before the shit hit the fan, I would have sworn they hated each other.
Now I know the truth.
I lean against my locker, needing its support to keep my knees from buckling out from under me. As much as the sight in front of me hurts like hell, I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. I just watch.
Saint whispers something in Elle’s ear as he twirls the tip of her ponytail with his fingers. Elle blushes at whatever he says, then murmurs something back that has Saint’s head falling back in laughter.
Yes.
Laughter.
While he puts that beautiful glow on her face, she lights him up from the inside, so much so that his deep chuckle can be heard all throughout Pembroke High’s halls.
It’s been a month since they came out officially as a couple, and it never gets easier watching them together.
“Ouch.” I hear someone say behind me. “That’s gotta sting, man. I feel your pain.”
I turn around, Reid’s pitying expression only adding to my melancholy.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I clear my throat, opening my locker and grabbing my textbooks.
“Dude, it’s all over school. Everyone knows that Elle is icing you out to hook up with Saint.”
“That’s not what’s happening.”
“It sure looks like it is to me.” He huffs. “Guess we both got stabbed in the back by a Grayson.”
“You and Ash are still not talking?”
“Of course not. Would you? He was like a brother to me, yet he didn’t have the decency to come to me and tell me what was happening with Addy and his fucking pedo father. I’ll never forgive him. Fuck him and all the Graysons combined.”
The rage in his voice is clear, even if misplaced. Addison Hurst is no victim, but I guess it’s hard for him to see that when the girl in question is his sister.
“All I have to say is lesson fucking learned. Never trust a Grayson. They’re fucking heartless.”
“Elle isn’t like that.”
Neither is Ash, but I doubt Reid will want to hear that right now.
“Is that right? Then I guess her sucking face with your best friend shouldn’t trouble you.”
My body aches to turn around, needing to see it with my own eyes. It’s my penance—to suffer while they find happiness in each other’s arms. Instead, I slam my locker and make my way to class in the opposite direction, Reid walking in step by my side.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick. Lately, it seems I always say the wrong thing. I’ve just been under a lot of stress.”
“Hmm.”
“But something tells me you haven’t been having a good go of it either. How about after school you come over to my place and talk shit out. I’m having a few people over after swim practice. A few tequila shots and a good cry will do us a world of good. Maybe get our heads on straight.”
“I don’t know. Not really in the mood to party.”
I’m in the mood to shrivel up in a corner and wait for death to claim me, but saying those words out loud would only freak Reid out.
“It’s Friday night, Chad. What else are you going to do? Stay home and lick your wounds?”
“Sure.”
Why not?
Why wait for death to pay me a visit when I’m already dead on the inside anyway?
“When you said you were having a little get-together, I didn’t think you meant a rager,” I state evenly, already regretting the decision to come here.
“Yeah, guess word got around fast.”
“Your parents are in D.C., huh?” I ask since the only time Reid throws a party at his place is when the senator and his mom are away on Senate business.
“Only for the weekend. They left early this morning but will be back before Addy and I return to school on Monday. Ever since they learned what those two monsters did to Addy, my parents don’t want to miss a single day of Rome’s trial. I’ll fucking throw a parade when he’s locked up for good.”
“You think Rome did it? Killed his father?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. He should have protected my sister when they were dating, not fed her to the wolves. That family deserves everything that’s coming to them. Besides, I wouldn’t put it past Rome to do something like that. Everyone knows he and his father never really got along. But like I said, I don’t fucking care if they throw the book at him. He deserves to pay for what he did to Addy. They all do.”
The bitter resentment in Reid’s voice gives me pause. He’s never been one to hold a grudge. This is his sister’s doing. She must have polluted his mind, putting the blame for her actions on Rome instead of assuming responsibility herself. She was always able to manipulate her brother that way. I guess some things never change.
“Now, let’s stop talking about shit that will dampen our mood. It’s a party, Chad. Have some fun. Grab a girl to dance with or even make out with a little. They’re all lining up for you anyway since word got out that you were done with Elle.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and push it down.
“What do you mean?”
“Come on! Don’t tell me you don’t know? Everyone thought you and Elle were endgame. That sooner or later, you guys would hook up, and that would be the end of it. Trust me. No one saw her choosing Saint over you. It’s like water and oil. The two just don’t mix. But maybe the shit they say about opposites attracting has some merit to it. But what do I know? It’s not like I have much luck in the dating department.”
Reid takes a swig of his beer, his eyes going to the makeshift dancefloor in the middle of his living room, Lace Manning and Kim Carothers dancing provocatively together.
“Still hung up on Lace? I heard you two broke up.”
He snaps his attention to me and then starts to laugh.
“Dude, hell no. Breaking it off with Lace was the best decision
I ever made. Being with her felt like I couldn’t breathe. I hated every single moment of it.”
My brows pull together in confusion, but I don’t say anything else.
“Come on. Let me get you a beer and maybe a girl to take your mind off things.”
Yeah, that’s not likely.
Still, I follow him into the kitchen and grab myself a drink. I try my best to put on a fake smile for everyone that comes to talk to me. It only takes about five minutes to see what Reid was talking about. A slew of girls come over to chat me up at one point or another. Some are shameless in their flirtation. Others are actually sweet and endearing. But none of them appeal to me in the slightest. After a while, it gets tedious to listen to the same drivel, so I walk around the house, needing some solitude amongst all of the partying kids here.
“I miss you, too. I wish you were here.” I hear a familiar voice lovingly whisper. Reid’s bedroom door is slightly ajar, and although the loud music from the living room can be heard all the way to the back of the house, I still hear everything he says.
“Do you think we can meet at our spot tomorrow?”
He sighs after whatever response he’s given.
“How about Sunday? Just an hour. Thirty minutes even. Ten? Whatever. I just can’t go the next two days without kissing you at least once. Please.”
This time his sigh is one of contentment.
“Good. I’ll see you there. I love you. So goddamn much. Sleep well, baby. I’ll be thinking about you. Goodnight.”
Once he hangs up, I push the door open, Reid quickly hiding his surprise at my presence.
“Hey!” He smiles. “Sick of the party already?”
“Just needed some alone time.”
“I hear that. You wanna come in? I was able to sneak in a twenty-year-old bottle of scotch from my dad’s stash before anyone else got their hands on it. Want some?”
“Sure.” I shrug, drinking the rest of my beer from the solo cup in my hand. I walk into his room and settle on the edge of his bed beside him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go back to your party?”
